Words Like Water
by Highwing
Summary: "Once spilled, can never be recovered ... "
1. Chapter 1

**I. THE CANDY SHOP**

Judy had done it again.

Judy and her big mouth had done it again.

Long before they left the sweet shop, where the customers and counter help and proprietor had all heard her words and seen her partner's reaction to them, the rabbit realized she'd overstepped the line she'd once sworn she would never again cross. Nick preceded her outside with jaw clenched to contain his hurt and anger, taking great care not to slam or bang the glass door, which might betray his inner turmoil and shatter the confident aura demanded of a mammal in uniform. Judy, not nearly so adept at masking her feelings, felt her face twisting in embarrassed, mortified chagrin as the full ramifications of her actions here hit her, and without excusing herself from the storeful of mammals followed out after the fox, her gait stiff-legged and her feet reluctant to take those dreaded steps.

Nick stood on the sidewalk before the passenger door of their police cruiser, standing very still, his back to her. She tried to read his mood, although she could guess easily enough what that mood must be after her latest verbal disaster. As his paws clenched at his sides, the nerve to speak abandoned her, and her intended apology caught in her throat, unuttered.

"Really, Judy?" Not Carrots, not Fluff, but her actual name.

This was not good.

"You really had to go and do it again?"

"Nick, I'm ... I'm so ... I didn't mean ... "

"You didn't mean?" Now he did turn around to stare her down - and a stare was just what it was, or perhaps glare would be more accurate. None of the half-lidded smirk now, none of the playful, sarcastic attitude which accompanied so much of their shift-filling banter. Just green eyes, wide and round, with enough downturned lip and exposed fang to signal that the mask was off. This was the real Nicholas Wilde, and his mood was not pretty at the moment.

"Well, just what did you mean? Perhaps I'm just misunderstanding something here. Perhaps I'm misinterpreting it, dumb fox that I am. And perhaps all those animals in there that you disparaged me in front of misunderstood it too. I'm sure we're all just missing your point, because you couldn't possibly have meant what it sounded like you meant."

"Nick, will you just ... I'm sorry, I don't know what ... "

"No." Nick straightened and turned, reaching for the car door. "No, we're not going to do this out here, in full view where everyone can see and hear. Let's wait until we're back at the station." And with that he opened the door, climbed up into the passenger seat, and closed it again.

Closed it quietly, softly, with the same care he'd used to exit the candy store. And in that measured, reserved restraint raged a storm unspoken.

Judy stood for a few moments on the sidewalk, alone, collecting herself while several mammals in the shop gazed out the windows, watching her intently to see what see would do next. Finally she stirred herself into uncertain motion, crossing around in front of the cruiser to the driver's side, getting in and seating herself behind the wheel.

She risked a glance Nick's way. He did not return it, studiously staring straight ahead, out the windshield. Perhaps sensing her eyes upon him, he pulled his mirrored glasses from his breast pocket and flipped them open, sliding them onto his snout. From this angle, she could still see past the lenses to the green eyes behind them, but they remained trained resolutely away from her.

Not trusting herself to speak further, lest she only make things worse, she started the car and pulled away from the curb, easing into the traffic flow to resume their patrol route.

The remainder of that shift was the most awkward afternoon of her life, with Nick responding to her in clipped, one-word answers or grunts, when he bothered to respond at all. Judy wanted the dragging minutes to pass so that this day would end, but she also dreaded that same passage of time, knowing the blowup that likely awaited at the precinct.

Five o'clock finally came, with their cruiser dutifully parked in its proper space in the garage. Nick led the way in and, to her surprise, ignored Clawhauser and all their fellow officers as he made straight for the exit, not even bothering to hit the locker room to change out of his uniform as he always did. The cheetah receptionist and some of the others looked on in mystification as the bunny trailed after her partner with an imploring expression.

He could not mean to just end their day here, to walk out on her for the night, to let it lie without the inevitable confrontation the situation demanded, to leave her hanging with the awfulness of what she'd done. He wouldn't possibly do that. But it looked like that was exactly what he meant to do.

"Nick ... " Softly, pleading.

He stopped. When he turned to face her, he looked tired, as if keeping in his anger had exhausted him.

"Look," he said wearily, "look, we both want the same thing, and that's for everything to be all right between us. And right now, at this moment, it's not. It's not, and I don't know what to do about it. I don't know if there's anything _I_ can do about it. This falls on you, Fluff." He took two slow steps toward her, his legs as sluggish as his tone. "So here's what I want you to do - consider it your homework assignment. When you're lying in bed staring at the ceiling tonight, I want you to think, and think hard, about what there might be in here - " He tapped the gray-furred dome of skull between her drooping ears. "And in here - " His paw moved down to her breast, coming to rest lightly over her heart. " - that would make you come out with the kind of stuff you spouted today. You give it a good think, and maybe in the morning you'll have some kind of answer that makes sense ... and that will satisfy me."

He started to turn away. Judy steeled herself to speak without her voice cracking. "It's just like the press conference all over again, isn't it?"

Nick spun slowly in mid-turn, all the way around in a full circle, to face her again. "No. No, it's not like the press conference. Because this time I don't have the option of storming out of your life and not speaking to you for weeks at a time. Tomorrow, we ride again. Tomorrow, we hit the streets, and we have to have our heads in the game, and have each others backs. Because cops who don't can end up dead. And I don't want to see you end up dead, and I certainly don't want to see _me_ end up dead."

Then, to Judy's amazement, Nick was hunkered down on his haunches, taking her in a heartfelt embrace. With his muzzle close to her ear, he murmured, "You've got to stop hurting me like this ... "

"I know."

"Because coming from you, it hurts. If any of these other clowns had said what you said, I'd laugh in their face and call them idiots and that would be it. But from you, it really hurts."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are. And that's why you're a good mammal - and why I know I'll forgive you. Eventually. But not tonight. Tonight, I'm mad at you."

Pulling away, breaking the embrace as abruptly as he'd initiated it, Nick stood and turned to go, his voice and manner telling her not to follow, not to speak unless she was sure she would get it exactly right.

She remained silent.

"See you tomorrow, Fluff."

Judy had always thought that the blue uniform made Nick look proud, almost gallant, but now, as he trudged out of the wide lobby toward the station doors and into the gathering evening, it was a completely different look he bore. One she recognized, from a year before, in this very spot, when he'd last walked away from her in disgust. The dragging tail, the slump of the shoulders - what little shoulders he had - the resigned, zombie-like footfalls.

It was something she'd never wanted to see again, and had never expected to see. And yet there it was. The worst moment of her life in Zootopia, and of her career as a police officer, brought to life again.

And it hurt even worse this time. Because Nick was fully her partner now as well as her friend - and if friends did not hurt each other like this, then partners most certainly did not.

Chief Bogo happened to be passing through the lobby just in time to catch the end of the embrace, but if he thought he'd come in on the end of a somewhat inappropriate public display of affection, Nick's retreating posture communicated something completely different.

"Problem, Hopps?"

Judy slowly looked up at the cape buffalo towering over her. "Nick and I ... I did something really stupid today, Chief."

"Oh?" That was all the prompting he gave her.

"You remember the press conference? About the Nighthowler case, when I first joined the force?"

"Rather hard to forget."

"Well, I did it again. On a routine call, for petty theft. The suspect was a fox, and the shopkeeper was in a lather, coming out with some pretty harsh things about foxes. I didn't defend Nick like I should have ... I ... I agreed with the shopkeeper. In fact, I more than agreed with him. I thought I was just defusing the situation, to settle him down, but it came out ... well, like the press conference. Only worse."

Bogo was silent for a long time. "That's not good, Hopps."

"I know."

"Where's the perp?"

"We let him go, with a warning. It was just a few pieces of candy. I talked the shopkeeper out of pressing charges when I ... agreed with him. Too much."

"But it seems you and Wilde patched things up, by the look of it."

"No. No, we haven't. Not yet. Nick's not letting me off that easy."

Another silence. "Will this be a problem?"

"I'll let you know in the morning."

"You do that. Good luck with this, Hopps. See you at roll call."

And then Bogo sauntered away, leaving Judy alone to cope with the mess she'd created.

00000000000

Nick's phone rang at 1:54am, and he didn't need the ringtone to know who it was.

"Hello, Fluff." Voice only, no video.

"Hey, Nick, it's ... um, me."

"No kidding. Really? Gee, I was expecting it to be someone else."

Not biting or bitter, more smarmy and drolly sarcastic. So there was hope.

"Were you asleep?"

"No. Were you?"

"Guess the answer to that's pretty obvious, huh." A long pause. "Nick, I am so, so sorry about what happened today."

"Yeah, we pretty much covered that already."

Again, his tone left the door open - not snappish or dismissive, just snarky. And in perhaps an inviting way, bidding her to go on - or so she fervently hoped.

"Nick ... why do friends hurt each other?"

"Dunno, Fluff. Why do you?"

"Nick, don't make this any harder on me than it already is."

"Why not? Why shouldn't I?" It was not an accusation, but a genuine question. "All you did was say the words. I was the one who had to stand there and absorb them, get cut by them, get put down and belittled in front of a whole shop full of mammals lucky enough to see Zootopia's most famous cop stick her cute little rabbit's foot in her cute little mouth and leave her partner feeling about three inches tall."

"Nick ... please ... the 'C'-word ... "

A heavy fox sigh went over the line. "There's an old philosopher's saying: 'words are like water - easily spilled, they can never be recovered' ... "

"Yeah, I heard that. In my college Philosophy class, back when I was still trying to get into the Academy before Lionheart's Mammal Inclusion Initiative."

"Oh goody. So you're smart. But we all already knew that. But there's a difference between intelligence and wisdom. And today you showed a distinct lack of the latter."

"That's ... harsh." Pause. "But fair. Maybe it's fair."

"Maybe it is. There's also an old fox saying, although these days you're more likely to hear it from raccoons, who stole it from us. 'The unintended insult cuts deeper.' And you gave me a bellyful of that today, Judy. Right in front of everyone. So, tell me again about fairness."

"Nick, back at the station you asked me for an explanation for why I would say something like what I did today. I've been thinking long and hard about that, and I don't think I can give you anything you haven't already figured out for yourself."

Pause. Pause. Pause. Then the fox's voice. "Bunnyburrow."

"Yeah. Bunnyburrow. I know it sounds like a lame excuse, and a generic pass for any stupid thing I might say, but that's where I came from. That's where I grew up, and formed my view of the world, as much as I tried to look past that view at the same time, and widen it. But I'm from Bunnyburrow, and Bunnyburrow's still in me. It always will be. Which means ... which means, no matter how much I try, and no matter how much I want NOT to, there's still a chance I might let slip something like that again. If I didn't learn my lesson from the press conference, maybe it's not a lesson that can be learned. I swore I would never hurt you again, but today I went and did just that. And ... I'm scared, Nick."

"Scared?" Legitimately curious, with maybe just a hint of ... concern?

"That I'm gonna lose you over this. Which is maybe what I deserve, and I wouldn't blame you ... but ... Nick, did I lose my partner today?"

A deep breath in her ear. "I already told you back at the station that tomorrow we'll be hitting the streets again - weren't you listening with those big floppy bunny ears of yours? No, Fluff - you're not losing me over this. But I also wasn't lying when I said I was mad at you. So if I'm putting you through the wringer a bit over this, maybe I feel justified, because you put me through the wringer first."

Nick could almost hear her nodding over the phone. "You're right. You're so right. But ... thanks. I needed to hear that. That I hadn't ruined everything, for good."

"Not this time. No promises for the next one."

"Understood. So, um ... what happens next?"

"Next, I forgive you."

"When?"

"Right now. It's ungodly late, and I also meant it at the station when I said I want us fresh and sharp for duty in the morning, so that neither of us winds up in the morgue. Because that would totally ruin my day. So, for the sake of both expediency and self-preservation, I forgive you, Judy."

"That sounded rather ... disingenuous."

"Would you get one wink of sleep tonight if I hung up _without_ forgiving you?"

"Hmmmmm ... no, probably not."

"Then there you go." Nick was almost back to his old self. Almost. "I'm not about to string my favorite bunny along to our mutual detriment. Take my forgiveness as sincere or not, as it pleases you, but it's my forgiveness to give, and give it I just did. Now get some sleep, Carrots, and stop pestering this old fox. 'Cos I need my beauty rest far more than you do."

"Okay. Okay. Thanks for talking. I ... needed it."

"I know. We'll be doing a lot more of that, because we still have some things to air out. But that can wait. For now, don't worry, and get that sleep. See you in the morning."

"Yeah. See you then. And thanks, Nick."

A beat. "You're welcome."

Nick hung up and rolled over. No light was on, because as a naturally nocturnal mammal he didn't need any. Placing his phone on the night stand, he closed his eyes and breathed evenly, willing sleep to come. Unburdened and drained as he was, he did not have to wait long.


	2. Chapter 2

**II. THE CRUISER**

Both Nick and Judy were determined to be first to the station the following morning. The fox won through sheer wily determination, if only because he roused himself before dawn and was out his apartment door around the time Judy's alarm was only just going off. To his surprise, Nick found Bogo already there, stalking around the lobby as if waiting to catch either or both of his two smallest officers while the night crew dribbled in from the brightening streets to conclude their shifts.

"Gee, Chief, don't you ever go home?"

"I go where I'm needed. So, Hopps told me last night about her slip of the tongue during your petty theft call - a petty theft call I've yet to receive any report about. I assume you're in early to write that up and submit it before roll call?"

"Um … " The idea hadn't occurred to Nick, his mind entirely on other things since yesterday afternoon, but his chief had unwittingly provided as good an excuse as any for the fox's unprecedented arrival at this hour. Of course, how he would write it up - if he could even bring himself to do so - eluded Nick's morning-sluggish mind. "Yeah, might as well give it a shot, see if I can get that on your desk before assignments."

"Mm hmm." The buffalo regarded his bleary-eyed officer. "Did you get any sleep at all last night, Wilde?"

"Enough. Or it will be, once I get my coffee. Skipped my customary donut shop stop on my way here."

"Ah. So, shall I wait for your report, or would you care to tell me now where things stand between you and Hopps?"

Nick thought this over. "To be honest, I'm not sure that's the kind of thing I'd even put in my report. We talked last night, but we've still got more talking to do."

"I see. Then let me ask, for my own benefit - will you be requesting a new partner?"

Nick was silent for a few moments, as if mulling it over, although in truth he was simply caught off guard by the question and needed a few extra ticks for his caffeine-deprived neurons to process what his ears had just heard. Then he looked Bogo in the eye, some of his bleariness falling away.

"Not in a thousand years, sir. Hopps is my partner, and the only mammal on the force I want as my partner. We'll work this out between the two of us."

"Good. I'll hold you to that … and I hope that you do. Having to partner the two of you up with larger officers would be a royal pain in my tail, so anything that spares me that is appreciated. See you at roll, Wilde."

Even as Bogo turned and stalked away, the doors behind Nick opened and into the station walked Judy, already in uniform, of course. The rabbit did a double-take upon seeing Nick there ahead of her, and she approached the fox with hopeful apprehension, her own eyes as droopy and red as his. "Um, you're in early today … "

"So are you," Nick returned, with a reserved, half-lidded half-smile. He lived farther from the station than she did, and only his obscenely-early rising had allowed him to beat her here at all, and then only by a minute or so.

"Yeah, well, habit. So, um, we've got some time to kill before official start of shift, so … "

"Bogo suggested we spend that time typing up the end-of-shift reports we weren't in any mood to type up last night. Sounds like a plan to me."

"Um, yeah, but … not sure what I should put in it."

"That makes two of us. So let's go stare at our blank screens and see what comes of it, shall we?"

A short time later, after grabbing his requisite cup of coffee from the break room, Nick settled in to his shared cubicle with Judy; being not only partners but the only officers on the entire force even close to each other in size, it had made sense for the two of them to share a workspace scaled to their joint use, with chairs, desks and computers which could easily accommodate them both. On this morning, they sat with their backs to each other, as they often did, except that this time the symbolism of this positioning held far more weight than usual.

Judy clacked at her keyboard far more slowly than her normal frenetic, bunnylike typing speed, and Nick didn't need to turn around to know she was merely stabbing at the same key over and over. For his own part, he was on the verge of typing "All work and no play makes Nick a dull kit" over and over, but that just would have been too creepy, and Bogo would hardly have appreciated such a report in any event. At last Judy spoke.

"So, will we be sitting next to each other at this morning's briefing?"

"Where else would we be sitting?" Nick returned matter-of-factly without turning around.

"I'm … not exactly looking forward to today's patrol."

"Hmmm. Wonder why."

"Still mad at me?"

"Yes, but not fatally so."

"Um … I don't know what I should be saying now. I knew this would be awkward, but I didn't know it would be this awkward." Her chair squeaked, signaling to his sharp ears that she'd swiveled around to face him. "How do we do this? Because I'm not sure how."

Nick kept his chair forward, looking at her over his shoulder to give her his classic smirky profile rather than anything earnest so early in the day. "Speaking only for myself, I am choosing at the moment to believe that everything will be okay and it will all work out, and I will leave it up to you to prove me right or wrong."

"Then … maybe I just shouldn't say anything the entire shift."

"That's a strategy to consider." Nick turned back to his nonexistent report, leaving Judy to do likewise.

Roll call in the Bullpen that morning was as routine as routine could be, with mundane points of discussion and a distinct lack of serious crimes and unremarkable assignments handed out to the entire squad. Nick and Judy drew street patrol in Sahara Square, where they would be ready to respond to any calls in that district requiring police assistance. It escaped the notice of neither fox nor bunny that it was a different assignment than Downtown, where the sweet shop of the previous day's ignominy was located.

Midmorning found them parked outside a Snarlbuck's where Nick had just fulfilled their additional caffeine needs to power them through the first half of their shift. Judy usually took a pass on such wakeful replenishment, but on this day sprung for a carrot cappuccino to assist her droopy eyelids and dulled attention. As they sat there blowing on their scalding beverages, Nick ventured, "So, now's as good a time for a talk as any, seeing as how all the criminal masterminds are wisely steering well clear of Zootopia's most fearsome crime-fighting duo."

Judy turned to stare at him. "Here? Now?"

"Why not? Even badly-chosen words would be better than this awkward silence. Which is most unlike you, I might add; whatever qualities you possess, being at a loss for words is not one of them."

Judy's gaze fell to the plastic-lidded cup in her paws. "It's just … the way you walked out of the station last night, when you went home. Shoulders slumped, tail dragging, like the world had just defeated you. That's something I never want to see again … something I thought I never _would_ see again … and I made it happen. Just like last time … "

"Hmm. So, how do you _really_ feel about foxes?"

She looked back up at him again. "How I feel about foxes doesn't matter. It's how I feel about _you_ that matters. You're my friend, and my partner … and I let you down."

"Let's back up a bit, Fluff. Back to foxes in general … because last night you blamed your Bunnyburrow upbringing for your poor choice of words yesterday. But you didn't _know_ me when you lived in Bunnyburrow. So I'm thinking what you came out with yesterday goes way beyond me … and yes, it does affect me, since I am a fox."

Judy threw up her paws, balancing her drink between her knees. "I _like_ having a fox as a partner!"

"There you go again with the insults … "

Judy grew exasperated, entering into the spirit of their verbal sparring with her usual enthusiasm and forgetting her earlier reluctance at conversation. "Insult? That was meant to be a compliment!"

"No," Nick smugly corrected, "a compliment would be saying you like having _me_ as your partner. Take any other random fox off the streets and stick them in this seat instead of me, and I bet you'd find them insufferable."

Judy rolled her eyes. "Half the time I find _you_ insufferable!"

And just like that, the dam was broken, the barrier breached, the awkwardness banished. It was Hopps and Wilde, Nick and Judy, bantering in their old way again, unguarded and open. A heaviness lifted from the inside of the cruiser, leaving just the two friends and partners who would always be there for each other, and knew it.

Which didn't mean that Nick was finished with the serious part of their discussion.

"No, really," he pressed, his tone friendly but earnest, "how do you feel about foxes? In general?"

"In general?" Judy pondered her next words carefully, not so much out of fear of offending the mammal beside her as to make sure she explained herself properly. "Well, ever since getting to know you, I've been taught an important lesson, and that's that any mammal can be good, even if they don't seem that way at first. And not to judge them by first appearances, not matter their species. So, no, I don't think I see foxes the same way I did when I first came to Zootopia. I mean, how could I? And I have you to thank for that."

"And yet, yesterday … "

"Okay, buster," Judy said, throwing out a challenge, "let me turn this around on you. How do _you_ feel about foxes?"

"Me? You're asking me how I feel about my own species?"

"Yes. If you saw a fox during your patrols acting suspiciously - "

"Suspiciously?" Nick cut in, mildly provoked. "As in, walking down the street minding his own business?"

Judy banged the steering wheel with her paws in further exasperation. "Come on, Nick, I'm being serious here! I know it's a tender subject, with the species biases you still encounter even though you're a cop, but I really want to know. I _have_ to know … as your partner. You've told me enough about your upbringing in Happytown, and about your street hustling years, that it's no secret a lot of foxes do involve themselves in unsavory activities. That hasn't changed, even if you have. So, if you see a fox on the street who strikes you as shady, what's your first thought? Do you give him the benefit of the doubt because you're a fox yourself, or is it just the opposite? Would you be more suspicious just because you were once on the other side of the law and know what foxes sometimes get up to due to their limited choices?"

"I'd like to think it's neither of those, and that I can keep my feelings neutral until I have enough real information to decide one way or the other."

"But aren't you the same one who goes on hunches all the time? Aren't you the one who always says knowing how to play a hunch is a big part of a cop's job?"

"A hunch, yes. But we're talking about something different here. And I've been judged for my species enough during my life to not want to do such things myself. Species profiling was never my cup of tea." He raised his cup to his pursed, blowing lips. "Or coffee, for that matter."

"Well, I'm not talking about _profiling_ … "

"Sure you are. You did it to me once."

"I never did!"

"Oh really? Then why, on the first day we met, did you follow me into Jumbeaux's Cafe? And if the next words out of your mouth aren't that you wanted a sweet cold treat for yourself after a long hard morning of punching out parking tickets, nothing more needs to be said, does it?"

Judy stared ahead blankly, mortified at herself. "I was profiling you … "

"Give the bunny a gold star for self-realization."

"Yeah, but … " She snapped her head around to glare at him, not ready to let him off the hook so easily. "You were running a scam - "

"Not a scam. A hustle. There's a difference. Scams are illegal."

"Okay, you hustled me. So my original suspicions about you were right after all. And you _still_ owe me that twenty bucks back."

"Fifteen. The Jumbo Pops were fifteen dollars."

"But I paid twenty."

"Telling them to keep the change was your call, not mine. I'm not responsible for your extravagant tipping proclivities."

"Okay, forget the money. It's hard to hold that little incident up as a cautionary tale against profiling when you actually were running a hustle and I was right to be profiling you. Or … no, wait, that came out wrong."

Nick arched an eyebrow, his tone teasing. "Go on, Carrots, you're almost there. Profiling's never right, is it?"

"No … no, I guess not. But if I was a bit of an idiot for profiling you that day, even if I did the right thing for the wrong reason - "

"To quote our former and current Mayor."

" - at least I treated you decently once I saw you weren't out to cause trouble, and only wanted to buy a Jumbo Pop. But what that elephant said to you … the way he treated you … that still burns me up, to this day. Especially now that I know what a good mammal you really are. No one should be treated that way."

"Welcome to being a fox, Fluff. You got to see it for one day - two, if you count the way Bogo was ready to completely discount me as a witness after Manchas went savage. That's what I've had to put up with my entire life."

"Well, that's just not right."

"And, welcome to Planet Obvious."

"And it makes me mad. Because you're my friend, and no one treats my friend like that."

"Can I put that on a card and show it to mammals who berate me when you're not around?"

"How can you be so calm and cavalier about it?"

"Because … what alternative do I have? Do I get angry and throw a fit, or pout? Do I get sad and depressed over the injustice of it all? I've been down both those roads, and neither one ever got me anywhere. And foxes who raise their voices to society and demand to be treated with respect get branded as troublemakers and rabble-rousers. It's all just … foolish. And so I laugh at it. I laugh, even though sometimes it hurts. Because if I give into the hurt, they win. If I give into the anger, they win. All the small-minded, mean-spirited, biased and bigoted idiots win. And we can't have that, can we?"

"No. No, we can't … " Again Judy gripped the wheel tightly. "I faced my own share of preconceptions against my species when I first came to Zootopia, that whole 'a bunny can never be a cop' mentality, and I had to fight hard to overcome it as much as I have … and even then, it took a lot of luck too, having the Nighthowler case fall into my lap the way it did. But even with all I've been through myself, I can't imagine the kind of thing you're describing. The suspicion, the mistrust, to have to face that every day. Or maybe I should say I can imagine it, but that's all I can do. I can't _know_ it. Not the way you know it, or any other fox who's had to suffer their entire lives under such prejudice. And that makes me even more sorry for what happened yesterday."

"Apology, as has been said, accepted."

A smile lifted the corners of her lips. "But there's hope. You're a cop now. You're an example to shatter the stereotype that all foxes are the same, and to inspire other foxes that more options are open to them now. They really can be more than just what society told them in the past they had to be."

"Well, that's a rather heavy burden to put on your friend and partner, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, y'know, sometimes life chooses us. Or fate, or whatever you want to call it. And you should be glad I profiled you back at Jumbeaux's, that first day."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because if I hadn't, I never would have caught onto your popsicle scheme … and if I hadn't done that, I never could have followed up on my one and only clue to Emmitt Otterton's disappearance … and we never would have worked together to solve the Nighthowler case … and you wouldn't be a cop right now. So, perhaps it was a case of bad judgment on my part, or the less admirable parts of my Bunnyburrow upbringing coming out … but it all came together in the end, didn't it?"

Nick put on an air of mock outrage. "I should hope, Madam, that you didn't just use a fortuitous outcome to justify species profiling?"

"Sounds like I did, didn't I? Sorry."

"Forgiven. Again."

"So, this, um, cleared the air, didn't it?"

"I'd say so. Although there are a few other things I'd still like discuss. But that can wait until the end of our shift. What do you say to grabbing a bite at the Omnivorium Diner when we get off? My treat."

"Your treat? You never treat."

"I will make an exception this time, since it was my suggestion."

Judy grinned. "You're on."

Nick set his coffee in the cupholder and flicked open his sunglasses, slipping them into place on his snout. "Mission accomplished, Hopps and Wilde back to normal - as normal as we get, anyway - and all of Sahara Square in front of us. Now, don't we have a whole lot of world to go and make a better place?"

"Already ahead of you, Slick," Judy enthused with a grin as she eased the cruiser out into the morning traffic. It was the first time she'd used his nickname since the previous day at the sweet shop, and the fact that neither of them saw it as anything remarkable said all that needed to be said.

Hopps and Wilde were back.


	3. Chapter 3

**III. THE OMNIVORIUM**

"You know, you said some pretty awful things to _me_ the first day we met."

Nick and Judy had grabbed their usual table at the diner, tucked into a rear corner of the establishment where they could converse in private outside of the main customer flow yet still easily catch the eyes of the waitresses. The Omnivorium was a popular restaurant serving both preds and prey, a cut above the usual greasy spoon but with reasonable prices that made it popular with beat cops on a rookie's salary. In retrospect, it made sense that Nick would offer to treat Judy here, since it was a way to appear magnanimous without having to dig too deeply into his own pocket.

Now the fox played innocent at his partner's accusation. "Me? Be awful to my favorite bunny? I fear you must be misremembering things, Carrots."

"Oh really? Don't you mean your favorite 'dumb bunny?' Or how about a certain scenario you delighted in describing which involved me ending up living in squalor under a bridge somewhere with all my dreams crushed?"

Nick gave an uncomfortable bristle. "Let's not talk about living under bridges, shall we? And I was merely doing you the kindness of explaining how Zootopia really works to a naive young newcomer likely to be chewed up and spit out by our unforgiving city if she wasn't careful."

"Kindness? 'Some toy store's missing their stuffed bunny so you'd better get back to your box?' THAT kind of kindness?"

"I said that on the _second_ day we met, technically. Please get your facts straight."

"And you also threw around the C-word pretty liberally when we first met too - and unlike Clawhauser, you were worldly enough to know what calling a bunny cute really meant. So chastise me all you want for some of my poor word choices - and I'll be the first to admit that I deserve it - but you can't claim total innocence for yourself in that area."

Nick nonchalantly sipped at his glass of water - this late in the day, he'd eschewed his usual coffee so as not to be kept awake when bedtime rolled around - then smacked his lips and asked, almost playfully, "So, what do you want me to say?"

"Well, you never did apologize to me for any of that … "

"Very well. Please accept my apologies for anything I may have said that offended or affronted you before we truly got to know each other. There, all better now?"

"You don't have to treat this so frivolously. You actually did pretty much ruin my entire first day of the job."

"So you've told me. You've also told me how you'd written two hundred parking tickets before noon, so I only ruined half your first day on the job. And I wouldn't have ruined any of it if you hadn't abandoned your assigned duty to shadow me all through Zootopia instead of sticking to your historic ticket-writing binge."

"Well, you gave me reason to, when I caught you melting down Jumbeaux's Jumbo Pop on that roof - which probably violated about a dozen health code ordinances - and then molding them in the snow in Tundratown - which probably violated a dozen more. And besides, if I hadn't followed you, you'd still be hustling pawpsicles … if Bellwether hadn't thrown you in jail by now for being a fox, since there wouldn't have been anyone to stop her."

"If you're going to go down that whole 'profiling you let me turn your life around' road, please don't."

"All I'm saying is, you were hardly blameless in us getting off on the wrong foot."

"Right. You are so very right. And I just apologized to you for that. Am I forgiven?"

"But … well … uh, yeah, I guess? But you said you wanted to come here to talk about this some more, and now you sound like you just want to gloss the whole thing over. So which is it, Slick?"

"I said I wanted to talk. Not necessarily about what happened yesterday, or what we talked about last night or this morning. It … sort of comes from that, but it's something different. Something that's been on my mind for a while now, but we've never come right out and talked about it."

Judy could tell Nick's frivolous attitude had dropped away, and the fox was now being serious - perhaps not so serious as the day before, but he certainly wasn't joking now. "Okay. What is it?"

Nick was actually fidgeting with his paws now - a sure sign that he meant to be as earnest as was possible for him, even if he wasn't entirely comfortable with that attitude. "Being a cop can be dangerous. Heck, I was almost killed a bunch of times before I even _became_ a cop, when I was still a civilian helping you with the Nighthowler case. And … well, it's been a nagging worry at the back of my mind. What happens if one of us goes down?"

"Goes down?" This abrupt change of subject left Judy in wide-eyed puzzlement.

"Gets killed, Carrots. Bites the big one. Buys the farm … and I don't mean your family farm."

The rabbit didn't seem to get what her partner was saying. "It's … an occupational hazard. All cops know it's a risk. But it's not something to dwell on. We'd never be able to do our jobs if we did."

"Uh huh. Well, maybe that's a mistake. What if one of us had been killed yesterday, or this morning, before we'd had a chance to set things right between us? How would the survivor have felt having to go on alone, with that kind of unfinished business left hanging between us?"

Judy stared at him, aghast at the very idea. "That .. that would have been horrible."

"Exactly. And when something like that happens, it can happen fast, with no warning and no chance for any final words. So I was thinking … maybe we shouldn't wait? Maybe we should think really hard about what we'd want to say to each other if that day should come, but never got the chance to."

"That's … well, what would _you_ say?"

"So glad you asked," Nick said with the trace of his familiar smirk returning. "I chose this, Fluff. I chose to become a cop, to make some difference in the world, to join something worthwhile. Maybe it wasn't any kind of all-consuming passion for me like it was for you, maybe it wasn't something I wanted all my life … although then again, maybe it was. Maybe that's what I was trying to grab onto when I wanted to join the Junior Ranger Scouts. What I'm saying is, even if I'm not any kind of world-saving super cop, this is what I decided to do, and that decision's on me. I knew the stakes when I applied for the Academy, and when I got my shield, and I'm fine with that. I'm fine with it. And if it all ended tomorrow … well, I don't _want_ it to, but if it did, that's the reality of the job, and I'd accept it. And this is what I need you to know, Judy. That if the worst did happen, I'd have no regrets, other than leaving you behind. So, if the time ever comes when I'm lying somewhere with you bending over me, and I'm not able to tell you what I'm telling you now, I want you to remember it. I want you to know I'm fine with it. Well, maybe not _fine_ , but … um, you get what I'm trying to say?"

Judy sat processing what Nick had just dumped on her. "Uh, yeah, I guess. But it's the same with me. It's the same with every cop. No officer wants to loose their partner, and we all know the risks. I mean, isn't that, well, obvious?"

"Sometimes it's the obvious that gets overlooked, precisely because everyone just takes it as a given. But I needed to get this out there - and I need to know that you'll be okay if anything ever happens to me. I need you to promise me that."

"I … I'm not sure that's a promise I can make, Nick. This is us we're talking about here. We're the ones who solved the missing mammal case, and stopped Bellwether. We're not just any two partners; what we went through together, what we _did_ together, that's something no other two mammals in all of Zootopia can claim. You were the first real friend I made here, and you're still my best friend - you know that. So how can I make that promise?"

"Because I need you to. Because I can only accept this risk, and be okay with it, if you accept it too."

"Of course I accept it - for myself. That's all any of us can do. I mean, what if it happens to _me_? How would _you_ take it?"

"Let's not even go there."

"What?! You get to talk about what happens if you die in the line of duty, but I don't? Why's that?"

"Because it would wreck me. Totally and completely."

"But it still could happen."

"I know. And I pray every time we hit the streets that it never will. But we're talking about you here, not me."

Judy glared at the fox in obvious indignation. "Well, that's a bit of a double standard, isn't it? We can't talk about me getting killed because you find the prospect too uncomfortable, but I'm supposed to sit here and listen to you go on about how you want _me_ to feel if it happens to _you_?"

Nick didn't budge. "That's right."

"It's _not_ right!" Judy sought to keep her voice down so as not to draw the attention of diners at the nearby tables. "You can't just discount my feelings like that! We're partners. We're equals. And if you really want to talk about something as serious as this, we have to do it as equal partners, or else the conversation isn't even worth having."

"But we're not equals."

Judy gaped at Nick. "What do you … just because I was on the force a few months before you were … "

"That's not what I mean. We're not equals in a much greater sense, and you know it. That's why I can't envision anything happening to you: because the loss would be so much greater."

"Wait … what … you almost sound like you think your life is worth less than mine."

Nick remained absolutely assured. "It is. And you'd see that, if you took a moment to stop and think about it, stood back and saw things the way they really are."

"Nick!" Now other mammals at nearby tables did turn to look their way. "No! You can't mean that!"

"I do. Absolutely. I'm a fox, one of many in Zootopia. Yeah, I turned my life around and became a cop, sure, and that's something to be proud of. But at the end of the day, I'm just a cop. You, you are so much more."

"Don't say that! You helped me find Mr. Otterton, and the other missing mammals, and put a stop to the Nighthowler plot. I couldn't have done it without you!"

"Bet you could have. You're unstoppable, as anyone who's idiot enough to go up against you quickly finds out. When I first met you, I laughed at your whole 'make the world a better place' dealie, because I'd seen it before, and I'd seen how quickly disillusionment comes crashing down on mammals like that. Then I saw you in action, and realized how wrong I was. I helped you with your case - when you coerced me into doing so - but I was mostly just along for the ride, caught up in your little gray whirlwind and totally out of my element for most of the way. You are special, Fluff. I've known thousands of mammals in my life, but I could count on the fingers of my two paws the ones who actually could change the world. And you're one of them. I'm not, but you are. Do you realize how precious that makes you?"

Judy sat in silence for a long time. When she spoke at last, her voice was tiny and uncertain. "I … didn't know you felt that way."

"Which is why I wanted to have this talk with you tonight."

"I'm … not sure how to feel about this. I want a partner I can be on an equal footing with, not one who'll treat me like a precious object. Not one who'll protect me at his own expense to keep me from harm."

Nick chuckled at this. "I defy you to name one time I held you back from running into danger." He sniffed. "As if I could!"

"So, you wouldn't …"

"Carrots, I would take a bullet for you, of course. You know that. I also know you'd take a bullet for me, and there's nothing I could do to stop you. I don't have to like it, but that's the way it is. And I accept it. I would never dream of trying to stop you from doing your job, as risky as it gets sometimes. Because that would be getting in the way of you being who you are. And I would never do that."

Relief flooded into Judy's face, although she remained unsettled. "Nick, this is all … this is a lot you're hitting me with here. I'm going to need some time with this."

"Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere." His familiar self-assured smirk was firmly back in place. "Unless you pull another boner like yesterday in the sweet shop. Then I might have to take a bit of a vacation from the two of us for a while." His smile remained in place as he saw the waitress approaching with their order - hot carrot stew for her, roasted cricket brisket for him. In his haste to clear table space for his entree, he knocked over his water glass with a heavy clunk; the vessel didn't break or crack, but its half-filled contents gushed out across the tabletop, soaking the cheap paper placemats and napkins. "Oops. Clumsy me," the fox chastised himself.

"Let me get that for you, dearie," said their server, an antelope of middle seasons, as she deftly set down their meals and withdrew a cloth from her apron in almost the same motion, wiping up the worst of the escaped liquid while somehow working around their plates.

Judy sat starting at the moist mess as if entranced. "Words … like water … "

"You got it, Fluff," Nick said encouragingly as their waitress finished up and moved on. "And you know what else can never be recovered once it's spilled? Life. And everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours has made me realize what's important between us, and what we can work out and move past to get to what's important. I hope you realize this too."

Judy gazed down at her vegetable stew. "Yeah," she said with a slow nod. "Yeah, I do. Last night I was worried about losing you as my partner over what I said. But I guess there's more to us than even my worst words could ever drive apart. At least I hope so."

"Me too. So … " Nick flashed a coy smile which nearly melted her heart. "Shall we call tonight a new start, with a new understanding, and a new pledge to put up with each other no matter what?"

"No matter what? That may be a bit of a tall order … "

"I'm sure we're up to it."

Judy returned his smile with a warming one of her own. "Yeah, I bet we are. So, shall we drink a toast to our new beginning?"

Nick picked up his empty glass, studied it a moment then shrugged, clinking it against Judy's. "To words, and life. May the words be good, and the life long, for both of us."

"To good words and long life," Judy readily agreed.

As the bunny sipped up, Nick regarded his glass once more. "Now if I can just get a refill … "


End file.
